


Taking The Long Way Home

by cricketmilk



Category: Pocket Monsters | Pokemon - All Media Types, 僕のヒーローアカデミア | Boku no Hero Academia | My Hero Academia
Genre: And The Very Vague Implications Of Todoiideku, BNHA Pokemon Big Bang, Banter - Banter Everywhere, But It Ended Up Not Happening, But There Is Lots of Tododeku Banter, Gen, I know Nothing About Law And It Shows, Midoriya Izuku Is Every Law Enforcement's Worst Ally, Otherwise Its Just A Buddy Cop Fic, Pokemon - Freeform, Pokemon AU, Was Originally Supposed To Be Tododeku, but only if you look for it, missing child
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-01-19
Updated: 2019-07-01
Packaged: 2019-10-12 16:22:55
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 13,488
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17470925
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cricketmilk/pseuds/cricketmilk
Summary: As both Pokémon and quirk regulations are put under increasing pressure towards the public, Pro Heroes Deku and Shouto are assigned to find a missing child.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Here is the start of my submission for the BNHA Pokemon Big Bang! A big thank you towards my art partner aeonsx for working with me on this event - their art will be available in chapter 3 so keep an eye out ;)  
> This was originally going to be tododeku but it dissolved into a basic buddy cop plot, but like, at a vanilla level. A pokemon episode vanilla level. It's just a simple story, so I hope you can enjoy it for what it is.
> 
> That being said, a lot of governing regulations are mentioned throughout this, but I in fact made most of these up because I don't know how law works. So if there's obvious holes to it then... Yeah. Sorry.
> 
> Thanks to Chiwi for playing beta with this chapter and the hard work of the mods of this event for putting up with me!

If there was one thing Izuku disliked about patrol work, it was working during a summer heatwave. He couldn’t help but frown at the curling distortion above the street pavement, miraging the wandering soles of people’s feet in the sheer heat. He grimaced at the pull of his gloves sticking to his forehead when he wiped the sweat from his brow. His hair felt thick and curlier in the swell of humidity.

Beside him, Micchan was having the time of his life, taking steps in stride, head held high, his mushroom capped head shading his face like an efficient sombrero. Not to mention said sombrero was probably photosynthesising the entire walk. No wonder he had pep to his step. Izuku was tempted to give him a piggyback ride, if just to use him for shade. As if Micchan could hear Izuku’s churning, slightly devious thoughts, he looked up at his partner and gave him a toothless smile.

“I bet you’re having the time of your life right now,” Izuku repeated aloud. Micchan wiggled his tail more as he walked. That was a yes. What a cheeky Breloom.

It was barely past noon, and the souring heat had already enveloped the streets of Musutafu City by late morning. Even outside, Izuku could hear the resounding hum of fans through the windows he passed. He almost wished he had some sort of ventilation system in the heavy paddings of his costume. Perhaps on his next repair schedule…

As much as he lamented, he knew he was needed on the streets. Despite the city being mostly void of people out in the sun, there were a persistent few milling about, and he had already spent his morning tending to four separate cases of collapsed elderly people, determined to go about their day as if the sun wasn’t attempting to cook them alive. One even put up a fight as they persisted for their right to keep their cardigan on while they were half passed out from heatstroke.

But aside from that, most of his day was simply a warning to those on the streets to find shade and keep hydrated. A mercy, considering actual crimes and villains were too affected by the weather to go about evil-doing. That didn’t abolish his right to hate working in the heat though. At least Micchan was in crime fighting condition. That made one of them.

As they reached the corner connecting Gappori Street to the local market block, a yell followed by the sound of thick clattering against the pavement made Izuku jolt to a halt. Just within sight down the street, he could see a couple wooden crates tumble onto the road, apples and pears rolling across the hot tarmac.

“Let’s go,” Izuku said, his skin burning up with the power of One For All, the additional heat causing a mild wave of nausea in his gut. He swallowed dryly, acknowledging Micchan’s nod as the Breloom began to dash forward. Izuku only needed a single bound to get to the market stand ahead.

If there was another thing Izuku disliked about patrol work, it was scenarios like this.

“ _Get your hands off of me!”_ A middle aged man writhed in the grip of a frustrated looking police officer, fighting to get his wrist free from half of a quirk regulating cuff.

“Just stop resisting and come with us,” the much younger police officer grunted, trying to subdue him. A Scyther was lashing out at a second officer who had another man in her custody, her collared Mightyena blocking the Pokémon’s agitated swipes. At the sight of the officer reaching for her handheld radio, Izuku and Micchan made their move.

“ _Sky Uppercut!”_ Izuku called out. Micchan lunged without hesitation to the Scyther, and punched its bladed appendages out of harm’s way. Caught off guard, Scyther fell with the momentum, stumbling backwards and colliding into the leg of the market stand. Mightyena growled at the intrusion, until Micchan raised his claws up to point to his hero badge attached to his sash. Mightyena quietened and returned its focus to the Scyther, who was struggling to pick itself back up.

The man in half a handcuff turned to Izuku with hopeful desperation. “Deku! Deku, please help! These ruffians are arresting me at my own shop!” He tried to stumble towards the hero, but the tug of his chained wrist kept him bound in place. His free hand was quickly grabbed and pulled behind him, the cuffs clicking shut. The wide eyed helpless expression on his face was too much for Izuku to ignore.

“Hey, wait a minute,” Izuku approached, hand out to stop the officer. He gave him an unimpressed stare, clearly displeased at his interference. “What’s going on here?”

“There’s no need for hero interference,” the officer said, trying and struggling to force the man to turn into their parked van beside them. “Just a basic theft report. We’ve handled it.”

“I’m no crook!” the man bellowed. “I’m the shopkeeper! I _made_ the call for the crime to begin with!”

“Woah woah- _woah_ ,” Izuku grabbed the officer’s shoulder this time, keeping him still. Behind him, he could see Micchan making soft noises towards the Scyther, who wearily watched Izuku’s interaction with the arrest. He focused back on the officer. “Clearly there must be a misunderstanding here? This gentleman’s even in his uniform.” He gestured to the man’s apron, edges spotted in fruity stains.

The female officer approached them from the riot van. “The suspect’s been detained sir. Do you need assistance?”

“I’m going to have to request you cease this arrest for a couple of moments, if you will,” Deku intervened, giving her a forced smile. She glanced between him and the other officer for a moment, before nodding, moving away to try and tend to the Scyther. Her partner officer scoffed.

“You will need to refrain from ordering my officers, _Hero_.”

“I’m obligated to aid in the forces of arrest, actually,” Izuku expressed, smile still plastered on his face. “Once I get an overview on the situation I can allow both of us to do our jobs.”

“ _I’ll_ tell you what happened!” the shopkeeper yelled. “That other man they’ve gotten – he tried to burgle from my stand! My Scyther took him down, and when the police finally showed up, they tried to take Scyther away too! And because I said no they’re arresting me as well!”

“ _Clearly_ -” the officer grounded out, “-this man is obstructing arrest and is attempting to harm an officer, and his Pokémon is out of control and attacking people. You know the law, Deku. They have to be detained.”

The shopkeeper’s struggles increased again. “ _No_ _!_ You can’t! We did nothing wrong!”

“If you keep resisting, I’ll have to-“

“Let’s not turn this into a misconduct case,” Izuku rose his voice. Both men ceased in their struggle.

“What?”

“You’re making a scene,” Izuku explained, his hand gesturing to the windows over the stalls, rows of curious faces peering out of their shaded homes. “If it escalates any further, I have the jurisdiction to report abuse of-“

The officer let go of the man as if his hands had been scolded. He pointed a sharp finger at Izuku, mouth open to argue, but Izuku was faster.

“-Give me two minutes to talk to him.”

The finger closed into a fist. Deku tilted his head a little.

“He _will_ comply with you. Just, let me talk to him, please?”

The fist balled up tightly, then was thrown down to his hip. Izuku tried not to sigh in relief as the officer looked away. “ _Two minutes_. You can’t keep bending the law, Deku.”

He stormed off towards the other officer and Micchan, determined to get the now calmer Scyther into the riot van. Izuku knew he could thank Micchan for dissolving the tension over there. A rough shoulder nudging him brought his attention back to the shopkeeper, who quivered, face red from the heat and his own frustration.

“Please Deku-san, you can’t let them arrest me. They’re trying to take away my Scyther, who knows what they’ll do to ‘em. They didn’t mean any trouble, they were just defending our stall. We’re not criminals, you know this.”

“I need you to breathe for me,” Deku said, placing his hands on both of the man’s shoulders. He kept tugging helplessly on his handcuffs behind him, too riled up. “You’re not at fault here, okay? But you need to stay calm, so I can help you. I understand your Scyther was defending you and your property, but unlicensed Pokémon harming humans _is_ illegal.” The man’s face darkened into a scowl, ready to argue. “-But your reasoning behind it is self-defence. It’s _justified_. You need to comply with the police and go with them to the station, but I’m going to help you. Are you listening?” The shopkeeper nodded. “Right. Once you get to the station, you need to plead for self-defence. If you need legal assistance, contact my hero department.”

“All this fancy talk,” the shopkeeper huffed. “-it’s too much for me.”

“And that’s why we _will_ help you with it,” Izuku reassured. “You know how to spell the agency I’m at?” The man nodded. “Good. Come on, I’ll help you get into the van. There’s ventilation in there, did you know?”

His smile turned more genuine at the elder man’s scoff, and he carefully guided him towards the vehicle. Inside was the _actual_ criminal, his face starting to purple from his earlier assault with a Pokémon. Scyther sat on the bench inside, peeking curiously over at its approaching owner. Izuku let go of his arm when the man finally took a seat. He hung his head low, his hands bound behind his back leaving him hunched and small beside his Scyther.

“I’m no crook.”

Izuku paused as he held the edge of the door.

“You’re not. I know this. Just remember what I said, okay? Ask for my department. We _will_ help you.”

The shopkeeper said nothing in return, just focused on his Pokémon leaning supportive against his side. As Izuku finally pulled the van doors closed, he heard the broken tiny voice sigh from inside.

“What kind of world do we live in where we don’t even have the right to defend ourselves from criminals?”

Deku grit his teeth, then stared at the officer beside him, who was watching him with his arms crossed. “Thanks for your help, _Hero_.” He said it as if the words had curdled in his mouth. Micchan finally returned to Izuku’s side, watching the interaction.

“You know this isn’t right,” Izuku told him. The officer rolled his eyes, walking to the front of the van.

“If you’ve got a problem with the law you’re supposed to be upholding, then maybe you should do something about it, instead of getting in our way.” He clambered into his seat and slammed his door shut extra forcefully. The engine ignited, forcing Izuku to take a step back.

“Trust me,” he muttered, watching the vehicle take off down the street. “-I’m trying to.”

 

* * *

 

The office’s air conditioner was broken.

It was _on_ , Izuku could hear the repetitive tinker of the fan whirring inside, but no air blew out. His hair was a lost cause at this point, plastered against the woodwork of his desk where he was resting his forehead.

“So… _Why_ exactly do we have complaints of you obstructing an arrest just off of Gappori Street?”

Izuku sank further into his desk with a groan. “ _Don’t remind me_.”

“Well I _have_ to remind you,” Kendou huffed from somewhere above him. “-because now we have yet _another_ warning from the head of police with yet _another_ case under his sleeve to try and ban you from police interference.”

 _“I know_ _!”_ Izuku threw his hands up in the air. “I _kno w_ _!_ And I’m sorry, but half of these cases don’t even _need_ arrest. They arrested a man today because his Pokémon caught their burglar before _they_ did.”

The heat was clearly getting to him. He was never one to yell in the office, especially at Kendou. But even she seemed to have caught the fever heat, because her scowl bled frustration too.

“ _A nd_ _?_ If he had complied and gone to the police station, all he needed to do was file a plea towards self-defence and the Justification of Force Act. He would have gone home scott-free.” Izuku wiped at his brow, blinking through sweat.

“That changes _nothing_. The public aren’t educated on legal acts, they never know it’s an option. Instead they get publicly humiliated and forced under arrest, only to be left scared out of their wits about an injustice that they didn’t do. They need someone to help them, and if that has to be me, then that’s just how it is.”

He leaned forward onto his elbows, hanging his head from his shoulders with a tired exhale. “Who knew legal work would be the thing that kills me in the line of duty?”

He felt something soft and airy brush across his nose, and opened his eyes to see a tissue offered in front of his face. He took it from Kendou with a brief thanks, dabbing at the sweat across his hairline. Looking down he could see droplets had smeared onto the counter. Kendou was clearly taking pity on him. He sighed again, then said, “Sorry about that. It’s not you I’m mad at. I’m just frustrated over how unnecessary it all is.”

A large bulbous hand patted lightly at Kendo’s side, her Ambipom peeking from under her arm to offer her a stack of papers. Kendo took them gently. “If we gotta get mad,” she hummed, dropping half of the stack into Izuku’s station, “then we can get mad at something truly evil.”

Izuku shuddered.

“ _Paperwork_.”

“The most persistent of enemies,” Kendou agreed, settling into her own chair. “Speaking of which, how’s your campaign going about those licencing laws?”

“You’re _really_ enjoying bringing out the worst in me today, huh?”

Kendou scoffed. “You’re the one who puts yourself onto the frontlines of all these messes. Plus, it’s your campaign. Who else can I ask?”

“Fair,” Izuku resigned, pulling out the papers in front of him and checking their date orders. “So far, we’re at a bump in the road. The government said they needed another case of sorts to provide better ground for the argument, or some more testimonies towards their decision of increasing age limit to licencing Pokémon trainers. Without them they’re not willing to take my case into consideration.”

He cut off his rambling when the paper he pulled out read the overview of Musufatu, and he instinctively reached for his bottom lip to fiddle with. _Twenty percent increase of criminal activity in Musutafu this year compared to neighbouring cities_. He tucked it away, looking for his actual case file. Most of their ‘criminal activity’ was petty crimes, such as using Pokémon partners to work in public areas, and owning additional Pokémon without a licence. Izuku couldn’t help but let out a sigh, rubbing his hand through his damp hair, and flinching as his fingers caught in a knot.

The government were still in an evolutionary stage of their Pokémon regulations, and the increasing list of _Do Not’s_ regarding Pokémon partners were beginning to show repercussions. Izuku prayed a civil uprising wasn’t on the way.

He flinched when Ambipom peeked over his shoulder, clinging onto the back of his chair. “O-oh, hello,” he told them, and felt himself relax a little when they began to chitter with a wide grin, amused by his reaction.

“Oh, Kenshiro, don’t distract him,” Kendou said, bemused. Kenshiro trilled and propelled themselves off of the chair, latching onto the circuit of hooked ropes on the ceiling and clambering over to their hammock overhead. Izuku watched them, amused, and faintly wondered what was taking Micchan so long. He hadn’t returned to the office yet.

“Anyways,” Kendou paused in her writing. “About the testimonies - you mean there isn’t enough cases of young Pokémon trainer accidents to use?”

“There’s an _overwhelming_ amount,” Izuku reassured her, “but nobody wants to testify aside from the parents of those involved. They don’t want to lose their Pokémon or their teams, and don’t want to help abolish the licence that gives them that privilege. Even though so many young trainers get hurt, and _worse_. They’re just kids.”

Kendou hummed quietly. “Ten _is_ too young for any kind of licence.”

“Yeah,” Izuku sighed. “It is.”

The office was quiet after that, the sounds of nothing but gentle pen scribbling as both heroes got to their rounds in paperwork, and the swing of Ambipom’s twin tails that wafted lazily from its hammock. The other desks were void of staff, out on their shifts patrolling across the city. Izuku hoped that they were having more luck than he had in the day’s heat. It was just too hot.

The paper resting under his hand was also hot, scolding in the sense of dread that Izuku didn’t want to have to face. He wiggled his pen for a moment, before relenting and attempting to start his written defense for the shopkeeper and his protective Scyther. He’d have to find Ito's listed legal support team while he could. His boss was going to run him ragged for intervening again.

The sound of a creaking door was enough to take away Izuku’s attention, and at the entrance of the room held his saving grace. Micchan waddled back into the office, clutching several bottles of water in his stubby little arms. He placed them on Izuku’s table where they clattered across the woodwork, and Izuku snagged one that began to roll towards his paperwork to claim for himself. Micchan began to pick them up by their locked caps, balancing them back upright carefully like setting up bowling pins. As Izuku brought the plastic to his head, he tried not to actively whimper out of despair.

It was warm.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Big thanks again to Chiwi for playing beta this chapter!

It wasn’t uncommon for paperwork to be the source of the majority of Izuku’s overtime, and as usual he found himself clocking out of the office long after the sun had set. He even had to wake Micchan up after finding him passed out under his leg space.

The moon being present was only a small mercy on their trip home. The breeze was warm and reminded Izuku that tomorrow would be just as hot, which meant sleep was going to be difficult. Maybe he’d have to pull out the futon. Was sleeping in the bath an option? Maybe with a pillow…

It took a few helpful nudges from Micchan to get him up the stairways to his own apartment, but eventually they made it, and he fiddled clumsily with his key in the lock. Inside, his home was as stuffy as ever, the room storing the leftover remnants of heat from the day. Izuku lunged for his windows with a grunt, opening them wide and taking in a dramatic breath of the outside air. It wasn’t much better, but still a small relief.

A gentle hum grew in noise behind him, and he threw a thumbs up over his shoulder when he recognised it as Micchan turning on the air conditioning above their doorway.

“Thanks, Micchan,” he murmured with his head hanging out the window. He heard his quirky little noise of a reply, before feeling the double clawed digits of his hands pinch at the back of his shirt, dragging him gently back inside.

Their routine for bed was almost scripted, mostly involving Izuku being as uncooperative as possible as he got nannied around into showering and microwaving up a small dinner before he could pass out on top of his bed. It was still too hot to be under the covers, but sleeping in just his shorts spared him from sleeping in the bathtub. Micchan would loyally curl up under his foot space of the mattress, and they would be free to pass out until morning.

Usually.

When the bleary sound of his phone ringing woke Izuku up, the pitch of the shadows cast from the phone’s screen alerted him that it was not yet sunrise. After blinking roughly four times and crossing his eyes just to attempt to focus on his phone screen, he could barely make out the numbers 4:17am above the call button. He ducked to whimper into the covers. Were the consequences dire enough for him to get away with tossing his phone out of his window?

By the fifth ring, Izuku decided it was worth picking up. His morning voice was about as professional as his morning breath. “Mmm’ello..?”

“Sound alive at least,” his boss’s voice sighed from the other end. Izuku could hardly hold in his scoff.  _ The nerve _ \- this wasn’t even his shift hour!

“Ito-san,” he corrected, trying to sound slightly more alert. “-Is there an emergency?”

_ “Yes,” _ Ito barked. “Get down to the office ASAP. I’ll have Ingenium wait for you at the gates.”

_ Iida? _ But before Izuku could muster out another word the call ended, leaving him squinting at the device. He should have thrown the phone while he had the chance.

But emergency awaited him, somehow. It didn’t quite make sense though - why would he need to go to the office if there was an emergency? He should be sent directly to the site of danger instead, unless something was happening at the office? Yet there was no tell-tale sound of background interference in the call... Izuku groaned at a failed attempt to roll off the bed, finding his foot stuck under Micchan’s chin, who was still sleeping soundly at the end of his bed, undisturbed by the phone call. Izuku lightly flicked out his heel from under his partner Pokemon’s muzzle, mouth open ready to tease them.

He didn’t get that opportunity though, the action spooking Micchan so hard he jolted from his spot on the bed, limbs flailing out like a starfish, and tail shooting overhead. Spores spat out of his tail’s end like spilt pepper, and Izuku made a mad dash off the bed.

_ “NooOOOOOO MICCHAN NOT ON THE COVERS-!” _

 

* * *

Only having to spend time changing into his hero costume and leaving himself a sticky note on the fridge to clean his bed once he returned, Izuku and a guilt-ridden Micchan managed to race down to the office by 4:52am.

The predawn light was nothing more than the sky being a dense fog of blue, and Izuku had to rely on the street lamps to navigate his way to his hero agency building. He could barely recognise the building from the silhouette it cast from its prominent roof shape, the lit sign in front of the gate the only indicator that he was at the right place.

Stepping past the gate with Micchan at his heels, he recognised the silver of metal ahead of him, glinting as the helmet angled in his direction. Izuku offered a wave as he approached.

“Iida-kun!”

“Ah, Midoriya-kun,” Iida’s voice was muffled through his helmet, but held a tone that let Izuku know he was more relieved than his intimidating mask made him seem. His partner Manectric sat stoic and unmoving beside him. “I’m glad you made it, we mustn’t keep Ito-san waiting-“

“Ha- _ ng on,” _ Izuku hummed, hoisting his arms underneath Iida’s armpits and pulling him off the ground. “If Ito-san thought this were an emergency, he wouldn’t be sitting in his office. For now, I want a hug!”

The metal that protected Iida’s body creaked slightly at the squeeze, and Iida choked out a wheezed breath. Surprisingly, he went pliant, as if realising Izuku had a point regarding the so-called emergency. When he finally put his feet back on the ground, Iida wrapped an arm around him to reciprocate, although he left Izuku where he was standing. They both glanced down to watch Micchan pat Manectric softly over his crown, and the canine Pokémon gruffed back in acknowledgement.

“It really has been too long,” Midoriya insisted, smiling back up at his old friend. Iida’s helmet nodded back at him.

“It’s strange, how we work for the same agency but never get correlating shifts,” Iida agreed. “However we can catch up on our way upstairs.” Izuku rolled his eyes but followed Iida’s lead into the building. “Even if Ito-san is indoors during an emergency, we must still be vigilant in answering such calls.”

“I feel we would have made better time if we just jumped to the office window,” Izuku joked, eyeing the stairway. Iida raised a pointed finger.

“Now that sounds a little bit – hmm.  _ Actually…” _ he brought the finger to his chin, and Izuku couldn’t help but laugh. He missed this classmates, despite it all. They had all gone their own separate ways after graduating; most received applications of work before leaving their final year of UA, and had simply split off across hero agencies around Japan. He even heard that Kaminari had moved abroad to the US, making a name for himself internationally.

As fun as it sounded, Izuku decided to stick to being as close to Musutafu as possible, unwilling to travel away from his only family. He may have moved into his own place along with Micchan, but his mother got phone calls every single night, and a visit every weekend. It’d break both of their hearts if that ever had to stop.

“We should try and plan our days off together, and hang out sometime,” Izuku added, Micchan pitching in with an encouraging chirrup as they hiked up the steps. “I could make us some gyūdon! Maybe with some niku shoyu ramen for the occasion.”

They reached their floor, and Iida was as polite as ever, holding the door open for everyone to step through. “That sounds delightful, but I doubt both of us – or even all of us-” he gestured to the Pokémon at their feet. “-could eat so much.”

Izuku disagreed; he thought personally if they were hungry enough they could devour every portion, especially after a long shift, but for Iida’s sake he said, “I’ll have to invite someone else then, too! Maybe I’ll look up Uraraka’s agency, or something.”

“Do you keep in contact with many of our classmates?” Iida asked. Izuku wafted a hand.

“Nah, I just haven’t had the time. That, along with juggling work and sleeping, I doubt it’d be convenient trying to align other heroes for regular meetups. Maybe one day we could plan a class reunion party!”

“I could certainly help arrange it,” Iida hummed, his hand finding its way back to his chin.

_ “Really?” _ A scratchy voice cut through their conversation like glass, pinning them to the spot. “I call for an emergency meeting and you two are out here planning parties like some kind of school prom!” They guiltily turned to face the door to the office.

Despite Izuku’s insistence that his growth spurt  _ did _ happen, Ito Kaori loomed over him and Iida like a shadowed oak tree, stiff and tired, and seemingly pissed off. His arms were folded over his chest, and Izuku could smell the whiff of old coffee that emanated from his open office door. Iida fumbled slightly.

“Actually Ito-san, prom and reunion parties are rather different in execution and circumstance, and-“

“We are on duty,  _ Ingenium _ ,” Ito growled. “You will refer to me as  _ SOS _ , or  _ Sir _ . Now get. In. My office.”

Iida shrivelled in on himself mildly. Izuku grimaced, feeling himself shrink further into his collar.  _ Sorry Iida. _ As they stepped past the older hero, he blocked Izuku’s way with an outstretched arm.

“And don’t even  _ think _ that I’m not aware of that stunt you pulled at the market square yesterday,” he hissed. Izuku’s back rammed straight, and he nodded meekly. He’d still do it again in a heartbeat though. Sometimes it was better to ask for forgiveness than permission.

He was finally let in, and he quickly scurried to stand over next to Iida. In turn, Micchan propped up against his leg, using him as protection. At least Iida’s Manectric had no fear, looking like the bred hero prodigy Pokémon that they were. They held their head high like a warding statue often seen outside of shrine temples. Iida may have slowly learned to soften towards his emotion at his time in UA, but Manectric was still a little too tough to crack. At least they were good at their job.

Ito’s Noivern was just as stiff, perched behind his desk and sitting hunched on an installed synthetic branch. Their head was low, but tilted slightly towards the window, eyes drawn down. Definitely listening for something. Izuku wondered if this was why his boss had no qualms over the times he contacted others on the phone.

Ito stepped into his view, crouching to reach for the drawers under his desk. “All grievances aside, you two are the best I have in my agency to spare right now,” he muttered. Izuku glanced at Iida in an attempt to share a look, but Iida’s helmet didn’t allow for any eye contact.

“Here,” Ito’s voice made Izuku look up, and startled when an enclosed document skidded over the table top. He caught it instinctively, and stared at the already opened tab of the envelope. He couldn’t help but twitch his wrist away when Micchan’s nubby little claws made to grab at the corner of the document.

“It’s all the information we could gather on a missing child.”

Izuku blinked.

“Missing child?”

“Yeah,” Ito landed stiffly in his chair, the hinged joints squeaking in protest at the jostle. “We only received the news about it a couple of hours ago, but apparently the kid’s been missing for almost four days.”

Izuku choked on his breath. 

_ “What?” _

He grasped for the pages and pulled out the top half of the document. On the front page was a black and white print of a little boy’s face, grinning widely to the camera. It was clearly a trainer profile picture.

_ Maketa Ayaki _ , the thick font spelled out. He looked like he could pass as an eight year old.

“Four days?” Iida spluttered from over Izuku’s shoulder. “Then why are we here – why aren’t we out searching the streets as we speak?”

“Because the rescue isn’t in Musutafu City,” Ito stressed, rubbing the wrinkles on his forehead. “It’s up North in Konoha Village.”

Konoha? Izuku tried to scroll through his memories. His geography wasn’t the best, but it didn’t sound familiar. Then again, he learned more about major cities than villages. As if Ito could read his thoughts, he fished out a regional map, unsuccessfully trying to press the corners flat with his elbows.

“Here.” He pointed awkwardly with his arms bracketing the corners of the paper. “It’s about a two and a half hour train ride up North. Their only hero agency, Kitakaze, sent an emergency warning to their closest agencies across the region, including us. With it being so late, they want only the best to go down there. Deku, that’s where you come in.”

He grasped the edges of his case study a little bit tighter. “Me? But I – my quirk isn’t made for rural forestry searches, or-or Micchan’s movesets have no benefit to locating a lost child in the woods-”

“Deku,” Ito grit out, silencing him. “They want the best, and they have a missing child. We are answering this plea for help, and you will do your job and accept it.” He exhaled, harsh, then turned to Iida. “Ingenium.” Iida stood straighter.

“We haven’t been able to locate a search squadron,” He admitted. “I need you to get into the archives and locate all nearby branches that we can gather as fast as possible. By the end of today, if you can. You’re our smartest, and fastest. And as much as you dislike it, Deku, you’re our strongest, and people look to you with a level of hope we haven’t seen since… Well, for a good few years.”

Izuku quietly resealed the envelope, lowering it to his side, nodding. “For now, forget your modesty. You’ll be catching the train that leaves before seven. Gives you enough time to pack. If things go well and a rescue group is formed, you could be back in Musutafu City by tomorrow.”

That was an awfully big  _ could _ . It didn’t make sense – why would his popularity have any say in his ability in dense forestry search and rescue? But Ito was clearly agitated, and it was hard to get past his decisions once they were made. That, and every minute Izuku argued, every minute was being wasted on finding the lost boy sooner. For now, he nodded, waiting for Ito’s dismissal.

“Good,” his boss said. “And don’t worry about handling the situation alone. Other agencies got the call too – and I know at least one other of their best heroes is being sent up there too. I can’t spare more than both of you out of the city. You’re dismissed for now, good luck on recovering the boy.”

After providing their short respectful bows, both heroes left the office, their Pokémon partners following suit. It wasn’t until they got to the stairwell that Izuku remembered the documents in his hand. He shuffled a page out, scanning it as he walked down the stairs.

“That’s dangerous,” Iida warned from behind him, although Izuku was certain he was also skimming the documents from over his shoulder. He shrugged.

“It’s fine – Micchan’s ahead of me. He’ll catch my fall.” His Breloom guided him with the tip of his tail pressed reassuringly into his front like a third point of contact.

“He’s only ten,” Izuku sighed.

“The boy?” Iida asked. Izuku nodded, feeling glum.

Four days, alone.  _ This _ was why he was fighting for the law change regarding Pokémon trainer licences. The idea that any child could be left to roam the country of their own accord, with creatures training to attack and destroy, and expecting them to be mature and independent. It was treated like some sort of rite of passage. He wanted to up the minimum age limit for a licence to sixteen, if he could.

“It’s indescribable,” Iida muttered. “-that we find it socially acceptable to drop such young people alone into the wilderness.”

At least Izuku wasn’t alone in his mis grievances. “I’m still pushing to change that.”

“I know,” Iida admitted. “While I’m at the archives… I can find some more points of contacts to try and breach for further support for you, if you’d like.”

Izuku smiled, reaching the bottom of the stairs, and tucking away his documents. “That’d be amazing, Iida-kun.”

They exited the building together, the air already thick and stifling. Another hot day was on the horizon.

“It’s weird,” Izuku admitted. “I was kind of hoping you’d be assigned with me. I know I won’t be completely alone but… It’s different, working with people you don’t know.”

“Let’s think of it this way,” Iida offered. “-Kitakaze aren’t asking for the best and the second best, they’re looking for the best and the best. It seems more productive to just get help from the best of each agency that answers their call. Besides, I can still help you from here, even if I’m not travelling alongside you.”

Izuku groaned quietly. “Why must you apply logic to my feelings?” he bemoaned. Iida patted his shoulder.

“Because feelings can sometimes lead us astray,” Iida murmured. Izuku straightened up at that, aware of the heavy undertones of his statement. He sighed, clasping his hand on top of Iida’s.

“You’re right.”

He gave the hand a squeeze, before releasing his hold. Iida took his hand back rather stiffly, and Izuku would like to imagine that hidden under his mask he may have even been a little embarrassed. “Good luck out there,” Izuku offered.

“And to you as well,” Iida bowed. Even after he and Manectric shot off to get to work, something was still eating away at Izuku.

Ito asked him to recover the child, but the exhaustion in his bones held a different meaning for Izuku.

_ Recovered _ , he had said. Izuku’s heart seized in his chest.

Of course they didn’t want his amiability for search and rescue. They wanted to use him as a cushion for the aftermath.

_ Recovered… _ They were expecting to find a body.

He’d been a hero for a little over four years. Recovery missions were nothing new to him, but every single one left him crying hard enough to strain his vocal chords for days at a time. He wasn’t willing to let this become another one of those cases.

Izuku grit his teeth, a new swell of determination spreading through his limbs.

“We  _ will _ rescue him,” he said aloud, and Micchan made a noise of approval beside him. The first streak of sunlight peeked over the horizon, and Izuku felt the oncoming blistering heat promising to arise with the rest of the morning. Blood alight in power, the Pro Hero Deku and partner Pokémon set off towards their long day.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A heads up - I didn't know Konoha Village was a thing in Naruto. This is purely coincidence. Please do not imagine the town as the Naruto town because I have no idea what that looks like, but it isn't this one.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Why are all of my OC's general assholes? I'm not sure. But I don't like any of them.   
> This chapter has the lovely arts made by my Big Bang partner, aeonsx! Thanks again for working with me on this!  
> And an additional thank you to Chiwi for playing beta for me this chapter too!

Izuku’s trip home was a short one; there was no time to clean his sheets from its spore-ridden fate from Micchan’s earlier attack, and they had to make do for the Breloom stuffing the covers carefully into a bin bag to deal with for when they’d return. 

Micchan was clearly apologetic about it, continuously rubbing his mushroom cap against Izuku’s hip, who petted him gently as he sent a quick text message to let his mother know he wouldn’t be in town for a few days. He prayed her text messages weren’t set to vibrate at this hour, she needed all the rest she could get. Fretting about her son at an ungodly morning hour was something she would definitely do.

He had made sure to pack some minor necessities, including some spare clothes and some energy bars, and lugged his hero suitcase onto one arm. After double checking that the sticky note to warn them of the impending doom of his sheets was still safe on his fridge, they set off for the train station, Micchan hot on his heels.

The morning was already warm with the rising sun, and Izuku was beginning to sweat as they caught the earlier train, setting off just as the hour turned six. By the time he got inside, and could hear the faint whirr of the air conditioning accompanied by the soothing chill creeping up his limbs, Izuku knew he’d fall victim to his fatigue. He managed to slump into the seat by a table, and watched Micchan clamber onto the opposite side, before he succumbed to closing his eyes, the faint rock of the train departing lulling him to sleep.

When he woke up, it was at the sound of his name.

“Midoriya. Hey.”

His head snapped up from where it had stuck to the table top, his cheek sore and nose still feeling squished and pinched from how he had rested. Blearily, he swung his head to the side to see a blur of a pepsi can colour palette, and blinked a few times to clear his vision. The smudge morphed into a  _ person _ , and Izuku felt his eyes bug out of their sockets as his memories finally caught up with the present.

“To- _ Todoroki-kun!” _

To his uttermost surprise, his former classmate stood before him, dressed in his blue hero costume, filling up the train isle with hunched shoulders. Awkwardly, he watched Todoroki’s hand rise to a brief wave. Despite being less than three feet apart from each other, Izuku waved back.

He hadn’t noticed he had scooted back to make room for him until his hip bumped into the wall. He patted the warm spot beside him, and Todoroki helped himself to the seat. On the opposite side of the table, Micchan was prodding at his newfound seat mate, Todoroki’s partner sat parallel to him. Gara blinked silently at Micchan’s antics, as Micchan fascinatedly ran his claws over the sandpaper frictioned mark in the centre of Gara’s skulled forehead, and in turn she carefully nudged him with her trusty bone. 

Todoroki’s Alolan Marowak was one of a kind, very rare to be seen in Japan. But regional origins meant nothing to Pokémon, and Gara and Micchan had eventually become friends within their school years. Time apart didn’t break the bond between Pokémon friendships, and for that Izuku was glad. He turned his attention back to his fellow pro hero.

“It’s nice to see you again,” Izuku smiled, prepping his elbow on the table to hold his head up. Although he had been feeling too hot earlier, he had now awoken feeling too cold. He wondered if the temperature change was to blame on the carriage’s AC or Todoroki’s presence himself, but bit his tongue to stop himself from asking aloud. 

“It’s been a while,” Todoroki agreed with a nod. When Izuku saw the beginnings of a smile lacing the edges of Todoroki’s lips, he couldn’t help but spread his arms out into an invitation for a hug. It was something their class ended up doing to tease each other into group hugs, although Todoroki was usually victim to being forced into the pile without actually contributing.

So Izuku was at a loss, when Todoroki jumped in his spot, said,  _ “Oh,” _ then leaned forward and slotted  _ himself _ into the hug, even lacing his hands lightly behind Izuku’s back. Izuku’s brain melted into static.

_ Ah, so he’s warmer than the train’s AC _ , a whispering thought wiggled uselessly at the back of his head. 

Todoroki pulled back out of the embrace, casually, as if it was a habit he was known to do. It  _ wasn’t, _ so Izuku couldn’t help but gape at him.

“You just hugged me,” he stared, feeling rather stupid. 

“Oh.” Todoroki blinked at him. “Was I - not supposed to-?”

“No- you were! You were! I just - was expecting I’d have to force you into a hug. But this is better!”

Todoroki didn’t seem to agree, and stared rather stonily at the table top. He looked confused.

“A-anyways!” Izuku blurted out, trying to divert the awkward tension. “It’s a coincidence you’re on duty right now. I never expected you’d have to commute to work.”

Todoroki’s brow furrowed further, but this time his confused expression was directed at Izuku.  _ Now _ what had he said?

“This is my first time on this train, actually,” Todoroki replied quietly, his sentence lingering as if he expected Izuku to fill in the gaps. If there was an answer Izuku hadn’t found it yet.

“Um, same here! I’m going to a little village called-“

“Konoha.” Todoroki finished for him.

Izuku stared.

“I’m going there too,” Todoroki continued. Izuku blinked at him.

“Oh.”

“You haven’t read your case study yet have you?” Todoroki’s voice tilted with humour, and suddenly Izuku felt very stupid.

“You’re my partner for the assignment,” Izuku concluded, snorting into his hands.

“I am.”

He dragged his hand down his face, hoping he could rub away the heated flush that was probably adorning his cheeks. _Hot, cold, hot_ \- was this how Todoroki felt all of the time?

“Sorry, I was gonna read it on the trip here,” he confessed. “But clearly I ended up-“ he gestured to his rumpled costume, from where he’d curled over from sleeping. “-not doing that.”

“Well-“ Todoroki glanced at his phone, before pocketing it away. “We still have about forty minutes before we arrive. We could go over it now?”

“Ah, Yeah! That sounds good!”

Luckily Micchan overheard their conversation, because he offered Izuku’s bag over the table, and with a quick thanks Izuku pulled out his document files to read. He scratched the remaining sleep away from the corner of his eye, and smiled when he saw Todoroki’s hero name coupled beside his own in the wall of text. 

“It’ll be just like old times, huh?” He joked, remembering the many times they worked with and against each other in school. Izuku remembered feeling surprised when he heard that Todoroki accepted an agency within a completely different district. It was sad to see him go, but Todoroki had mentioned that he had learned enough from his dad’s agency, and that it was time for him to make his own path. Aside from small infrequent mentions on the news, Todoroki and Gara had pretty much blipped out of Izuku’s radar.

“Do you mean like classes-old times or life-endangering-peril-old times?” Todoroki asked. Izuku caught the edge of his document with a frown. Ah, that was right. It  _ hadn’t _ all been fun and games. With their encounter with Stain, the League of Villains, All For One. If this mission was anything like those-

“Ah,” Todoroki blurted out, catching him off guard. As if he had heard where Izuku’s thoughts had headed, he added, “I didn’t mean it like - we will find the boy.”

“Maketa,” Izuku mumbled.

“We’ll find Maketa Ayaki,” Todoroki corrected himself.

“And rescue him,” Izuku persisted.

“And rescue him.” Todoroki echoed.

 

* * *

Despite the tension, the attention towards the case study quickly dissolved the atmosphere into something more familiar, Izuku finding himself in a thorough talk with Todoroki regarding basic rural rescue tactics that they might be able to use once they arrived.

They had managed to get so invested in their conversation, that neither were aware that they had reached their stop until Gara conked the end of her bone onto their papers, startling the heroes into looking up. Todoroki glanced from Gara to the window, eyebrows rising.

“Oh, we’re here.”

Izuku scrambled for his documents with a yelp, shoving them into his bag while Todoroki got up to seize the door before it closed without them, their Pokémon in a flurry behind him.

Izuku was the last out of the carriage, and as soon as his feet planted onto the ground, the breeze whipping his hair to the side, he couldn’t help but notice-

_ “It’s cold!” _ He hissed, pulling at his gloves tighter. The sun bore down on them, and while he could certainly feel it’s heat on his skin, the wind was so icey it sapped any kind of warmth that tried to linger.

“Hm, is it?” Todoroki said airily. Izuku squinted at his retreating, self temperature regulating back. Did Todoroki just quip a joke?

He followed the other hero with a quiver in his step towards the large open map that stood in the middle of the platform, and Izuku peered at its split contents between the train schedule and town map with gritted teeth. If Todoroki had noticed he went to stand over by his left side, he didn’t comment on it.

As Todoroki drew his finger down the map to plan out their route to the hero agency, Izuku couldn’t help but notice how empty the station was. The train was already departing, but no one else had gotten off with them. Gara idly swayed her bone over her shoulder from beside them, the end of it hanging Todoroki’s own bag like some sort of bindle. Micchan lingered behind her, looking rather small in the empty station, his eyes squinting as he looked around. He was probably a bit chilly too. 

“Here,” Todoroki’s voice made him jump, and he swivelled around to face the map again. Todoroki rapped his finger against the glass.

“It’s down the other end of the village path,” Todoroki hummed. “Only two corners to turn, but a few minutes of walking. It’s just opposite the police station.”

Oh, great. Izuku was not exactly the poster child according to most law enforcements. He hoped he didn’t have a regional warning sign for himself.

“Let’s not waste any time then.” Izuku gripped his bag tighter, and led the way out of the sheltered station.

 

 

Outside, the wind was somehow wilder, strong enough to dishevel green leaves from the trees surrounding the village, scattering them in a mess across the sky. A couple slapped into Izuku’s side, before continuing on their hazardous airborne journey.

“It feels like Inasa’s playing just past the tree line or something,” Izuku chattered his teeth, baring a smile. Todoroki rolled his eyes at him, and overtook his pacing. 

“If that’s the case we need to get this mission solved and done with immediately.” 

Izuku laughed and pursued him, their Pokémon marching behind them like some sort of party train.

There were people in the village, but they were very few. Those who were out despite the blustery weather stood by the doorways of their houses, all and any talking that may have been happening ceased with the approach of the heroes.

But their looks held no curiosity. Instead there were a crowd of stiff chins and scowling brows, arms crossed against their chest in an effort to make themselves intimidating.

“We don’t seem very welcome,” Izuku murmured low, but Todoroki kept his pace set and head straight, simply heading to where the map said to go. A few wild looking Pokémon stared as they passed from the rooftops.

“Likely a tight knit community, looking out for each other,” Izuku was surprised to hear Todoroki mutter back. “If they had something to hide, it’d be difficult for us to weed them out.” 

“What would they be trying to hide?” 

“Hopefully not who we’re trying to find,” Todoroki replied. Izuku frowned.

“You don’t think the village took him, do you?” He asked dubiously. It seemed way too early to be throwing around accusations like that. Izuku wasn’t convinced. 

After taking another turn, they came face to face with the police station. Across from it was a rather dull looking office building, with a small little sign in front that read ‘Kitakaze Agency’. Todoroki paused to face him.

“Not particularly,” he shrugged. “-just considering all options.” Then he turned to enter the building. Izuku held the door open for their Pokémon, then followed suit. He flinched as the door slammed shut from the wind pressure outside.

Despite the rural feel of the rest of the mountain village, the inside of the hero department was surprisingly modern. Laminate flooring spread clean across the floor, and one side of the room was entirely made of glass, showing the outside view. Several office doors lined across the other side of the building, and parallel to the entryway was a reception desk, surrounded by a few chairs like a waiting area. Only a single lady was present, sat like plastic at the front desk. Todoroki walked up to her, and Izuku caught up beside him. Todoroki pulled out his hero licence, and instinctively their Pokémon mimicked the action with their certified sashes.

“Pro heroes Shouto and Deku present,” he stated. “We’re here on orders to aid pro hero Coriolis with an emergency case.”

“Ah, hello there,” the receptionist blinked, eyes peculiarly small. Izuku tried not to grimace at the bizarre, recording like tone of her voice. “Welcome to Kitakaze Hero Agency. Please take a ticket and we will see to you when your number is called.” She pointed fluidly to the ticket machine on her desk.

“No,” Todoroki gritted out.” We’re not clients, we’re here for a mission-“

The receptionist kept smiling, the expression bleeding through her face. Quite literally. The lump of her lip slowly slid off from her chin, and dripped onto her uniform, before melding seamlessly into the fabric. Her lip was entire on her face before Izuku had looked back up. 

_ Oh dear. _

“If you have a complaint, please fill out our survey form-“

Todoroki looked like he’d rather set the form pile on fire instead, so Izuku reached over the desk a little impulsively and pressed the intercom, blurting out, “ _ Hey _ this is Deku and Shouto - we just arrived  _ can we come in please?” _

The receptionist just kept grinning, but her head did tilt to watch him drape over her desk. He felt claws dig into his pant leg, slowly pulling him off from the tabletop, and looked down sheepishly at Micchan’s condescending stare. When he stood back up again, the intercom buzzed.

“The office door is now open,” the receptionist announced, her voice tinkly like a rehearsed advertisement over the radio. “Please take yourselves through the doors to the left.”

“Thanks,” Todoroki huffed, not too kindly, heading towards the door. He refused to acknowledge her wave at their leave, so Izuku waved for the both of them. 

“Isn’t having Pokémon work as a human considered illegal these days?” Todoroki muttered. Izuku shrugged.

“Coriolis’ partner Pokémon is a Ditto right? It’s probably okay since they’re hero licensed.”

“Seems like a bit of excessive privilege to me. Any other person would get reported.” 

Izuku bit his lip. Todoroki had a bad history with heroes who abused their rights. His short temper on the matter hadn’t digressed with age it seemed.

“The call was sent out because they’re understaffed. It can’t be helped.”

“Come on.” Todoroki pushed the office door open, and Izuku followed suit. It was weird - Izuku forgot how ill mannered Todoroki could be. Perhaps it was because he had friend benefits that allowed him to see him at his most amiable. Double checking their Pokémon were in tow, Izuku shut the door behind them.

Inside, the room seemed too large to be an office. Coriolis’ desk stood lonely at the far end of the room, and there were obvious attempts to fill up the emptiness with shelved glass cabinets. Each shelf was aligned with abstract ornaments and decoration - only one shelf held any documents, and there wasn’t enough to fill half of its length.

Izuku walked over to Coriolis’ desk, stuck between eyeing at both Coriolis for fiddling with an antique tea set and Todoroki who seemed to desire the power to set things on fire with his glare alone.

“We’re here to assist with your distress call, sir,” Izuku said, hoping to passively get to the point.

“Excellent, excellent,” Coriolis hummed, pouring a cup of tea into a cup, then into a second. “Would you like some tea?” He asked, pouring a third one anyways.

“No,” Todoroki repeated with a frown. “We’re here to rescue a child and nothing more. We want to know what efforts have already been put into place so we can begin our search.”

Coriolis pushed two tea cups towards them, but didn’t bat an eyelid when neither of them attempted to reach for one. He sipped at his own, disinterested.

“Not much I’m afraid. We only were made aware of his absence two days ago, after his mother reported that her son failed to call her back one night. The last signal his phone pinged was at the radio tower here. We have two statements confirming that he came through here on his Pokémon journey to go through our woods - it’s a common trail you see. No one realised he hadn’t gotten out, so it wasn’t reported until the last minute. Only from witness accounts can we confirm he’s been missing for almost 5 days now.”

“Do we have specific directions?” Izuku asked. “If the trail is so popular, why hasn’t anyone gone down to look for him? Why aren’t there established search parties?”

Coriolis shrugged. “The locals have a rocky relationship with heroes. They don’t like cooperating with us. Believe me when I say it was difficult enough getting them to talk about even seeing the boy. And with all this Oya-Shio nonsense going about they’re too frightened to leave the village through the mountains.”

“Oya-Shio?” Izuku asked. Coriolis wafted a hand out obnoxiously.

“You know - that North Eastern current we get every year. It’s just the cold breeze coming from up North that lasts about a month before winter begins, but this village is old, and everyone still believes that it’s the presence of a Suicune passing through. Just basic isolated people nonsense.”

“It’s a little rude to brush aside people’s beliefs like that,” Todoroki muttered sourly. Izuku shook his head at him.  _ Now isn't the time Todoroki! _ Izuku didn’t want to relive another incident with the Chief of Police they shared many years ago.

_ Ah, crud, _ Izuku realised.  _ We both have bad rep with authorities. _

“Yes, well, they’re being difficult with this rescue mission,” Coriolis hummed, “and I’m not willing to let superstition get in the way of saving a life.”

That was fair, Izuku thought, even though Coriolis’ attitude wasn’t giving his reasoning any justification.

“Regardless, their belief holds strong, and they refuse to set track up the path towards the fishing lake because of their tradition. That leaves only myself to search, but this is the one time of year that my quirk works against me.” He sighed, lowering his cup and cupping his chin into his palm. “My quirk is Current Manipulation. I can read signals presented in any kind of current, and twist them to my benefit, but Oya-Shio is a tricky, strong current that I can’t warp enough. It flows directly back to the village, so my attempts to search and locate have been for naught. I’ve spent the rest of my time sending for backup requests.”

“Well,” Izuku presented to themselves with an awkward swing of his hand. “We’re here.”

“You are,” Coriolis smiled. “But your tea is getting cold.”

“We don’t want tea,” Todoroki persisted.

“-but we do want to get started with our search,” Izuku added. “Is there anywhere we can put our bags?”

Coriolis took another sip from his cup. “Mm, yes, just outside the reception there's some stairs - the overnight bunker is up there. You can put your belongings in there for the time being.”

“Thank you very much!” Izuku put on a smile, and their Pokémon bowed with added effect. Even without Todoroki offering any similar respect, Coriolis smiled, and flicked his wrist to the door, excusing them to leave.

Just like before, Todoroki left first, fast on his feet with a stiffness to his step. Izuku followed him as fast as he and their Pokémon could muster, and it wasn’t until they made it partially up the stairs that Izuku sighed, “You’re being awfully rude, Todoroki-kun.”

Todoroki paused in his step.

“Sorry,” he said over his shoulder. “I didn’t mean to be rude to you.” He kept walking, and Izuku rolled his eyes.

“Not to  _ me,” _ he stressed, following Todoroki into the bunker. “-to Coriolis! He was giving us helpful insight towards the search.”

The bunker itself was unimpressive. Aside from some dusty stacked boxes in the corner, it simply contained a single bed with a lamp on the desk beside it. A fax machine sat beside a wired telephone, and there was a door leading to what Izuku assumed to be the bathroom. It was a shoddy place for one hero to stay in, let alone two. It was a good thing they weren't planning on staying for any longer than it would take to find Maketa. Todoroki wandered over to his Marowak, pulling his case off from her bone to shove under the bed. 

“He was wasting time. And he acted as if the people in this town were beneath him. I’m not giving respect to those unwilling to give it to others.”

Izuku put his own bag down by the side of the only single bed in the room with a groan. 

“His attitude  _ was  _ kind of pretentious,” Izuku admitted.

“Seems familiar, somehow,” Todoroki hummed. Izuku glanced over his shoulder.

“Like Monoma in his first year.”

Todoroki stared at him blankly from across the room.

“Monoma Neito?” Izuku continued. “From class B?”

“I don’t know anyone from class B,” Todoroki told him. Izuku snorted.

_ “Now _ whose attitude is pretentious?”

“Watch it.” Todoroki’s teasing tone didn’t match his words.

Izuku broke off into a chuckle, his smile remaining genuine on his face when he watched Micchan clamber onto the bed. The springs jostled loudly beneath him, and he splayed onto his belly to peer over the edge where Todoroki was kneeled beside him. He stuck his tongue out at the hero when he rose back onto his feet. 

Izuku bit inside his cheek, smile loosening.

“Two people,” he sighed, catching Todoroki’s attention. “They decided two people were going to help in a wide search rescue mission? There’s just little logic to this.”

“So you don’t think the villagers would aid us in our search?”

“I’d wish, but after the way they saw us on the journey here-” Izuku scratched at the back of his head. “Although I wouldn’t particularly blame them, with how Coriolis acts. But with their annual tradition, it might be hard to convince them to enter the forest trail.”

“They definitely don’t want us here,” Todoroki agreed, his hands on his hips. Gara stood by his side, ignoring Micchan’s coaxing to try and get her to join him on the furniture. “We could just go into the woods ourselves and get searching.”

“Let’s not give up on these people without trying, at least,” Izuku tried. “We can ask for volunteers in the middle of the town square, and see if anyone is willing to help. Then we can get to searching.”

Todoroki was stone faced, but nodded. “Okay. We’ll give them a chance.”

Izuku nodded back at him, and began to leave the room. For now, they had to find some help. He waggled a finger at Micchan, who scrambled to get off the bed to follow them. Todoroki overtook him, but stopped just shy of the top step, looking down at Izuku. “Your faith in people is admirable, but we’re losing time.”

Izuku nodded, gut heavy. “We’ll be quick,” he promised.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Nyello… It’s been a while. I took 4 months off to write for a different Big Bang, and then after that I literally just died for 2 whole ass months. Not a single bit of production made in that time, it was wild. I’d like to eventually get this finished tho, so here’s the next chapter! Sorry for the wait! Thanks to mayaut2435 for playing beta this chapter!

 

A brief glance at his Pokégear told Izuku the time had just passed 10:40am and that there was absolutely fat chance of him getting a signal out here, as they made their way back outside into the chilly blustery town. He felt a little bad not acknowledging Coriolis’ Ditto receptionist as they called an over-enthusiastic rendition to rate their services on a scale out of five, but knew that Todoroki was right. The hero office was strangely filled with time wasting tactics, and he wondered if they’d be able to change its rate of efficiency if they put in a complaint somehow. 

No matter how small a town was, one hero was not enough to run an industry by themselves.

Luckily, the townspeople and Pokémon seemed well adjusted to the harsh whistling winds of Oya-Shio, and more heads were out and about passing to and from houses, a lot of which were carrying bags of food. Possibly a well placed restock of the local market goods, Izuku thought. It’d be good luck for them to get their attention like this.

Just off to the side of the street was a bench lining an open stone water trough, with a Ponyta taking a sip at its edge. It looked disgruntled when Izuku and Todoroki stood beside it, Micchan bounding to stand on the bench to tower over them all. Todoroki gave Izuku a look, who swallowed.

It  _ was  _ his idea after all. He cleared his throat awkwardly.

“Excuse me!” He called out, hoping the wind didn’t sweep his volume away. He waved an arm overhead for good measure. “If I could have everyone’s attention please!” 

Luckily, the heroes’ presence was enough of an oddity to catch everyone’s passing eye, even if most of them glared at the disturbance with a look of disdain. Izuku ignored the hostility, overly aware of Micchan copying his arm gestures on the bench behind him.

“Sorry to bother you this morning, but we’re here investigating the whereabouts of a young boy whose been reported as missing. There was mention that people may have spoken to him as he passed through here five days ago?”

No one seemed interested in saying anything, and Izuku could have sworn he saw a woman at the back of the crowd morph out of sight with some sort of invisibility related quirk. Suspicious behaviour, or simply not wishing to deal with the crowd hassle? 

Eventually, a man with a stubbled chin hollered, “Why don’t you go ask your other hero friend? He got the statements!” A few voices chorused agreement with him.

“We want to make sure we’re not missing any details. First hand statements could be essential to helping us save this boy,” Todoroki added smoothly. Only a couple shuffling feet could be heard, but the breeze was the only answer to their requests.

After no reply, Izuku added, “If no one here saw this boy; short black hair, ten years old, travelling as a Pokémon trainer - then we’d like to ask for your support in helping us find him. If anybody has any quirks, or Pokémon with abilities related to long range detection or location, your help would greatly increase our chances to rescue Maketa Ayaki and reunite him with his family.”

“Don’t you be heading off up the mountain trail,” an elderly man warned. “It’s Oya-Shio’s time. Suicune’s already angry at us! You can’t expect any of us to disturb ‘em further!”

“Don’t forget the bandit sightings,” another woman called. Izuku blinked in surprise, he and Todoroki sharing a glance at each other.  _ Bandits? _ They weren’t mentioned in the report.

_ “Yeah! _ When are you gonna prioritise what  _ really  _ needs sorting?”

“What can you expect?” a gruff voice added. “They’re _ ‘heroes’. _ Go back to the city already.”

Izuku raised his gloved hands in a placating gesture, but he was getting frustrated. “We’re here to save a little boy - please understand that!”

There was a faint whizz in the air, before Gara leapt up in front of him, swinging her bone with a crack. A small stone bounced off of it, clattering to the floor, and Izuku frowned out at the crowd towards the child who had tossed it at them. His mother quickly scooped him up with a harsh scolding, but glanced over at them with fear, as if scared of repercussions.

“Be careful,” Todoroki warned gently. “You can seriously hurt someone by throwing rocks.”

The mother nodded and dragged her child away, and the gathered towns people began to disperse with her leave, clearly not willing to sympathise or support their cause. Todoroki sighed, turning to Izuku.

“Well, that was a bust,” he said.

“Sorry,” Izuku grimaced. He watched Todoroki pat Gara’s head, silently praising her for her reaction time. “I tried, but-”

“It was worth a shot,” Todoroki concluded. “But now it's time to go search for ourselves.”

“Yeah,” Izuku sighed, feeling glum. They headed off towards the track, Micchan catching up behind them, and Izuku tried to ignore the scoffs and muttering of the townspeople watching them go. It almost felt like a walk of shame. “I can’t believe they reacted so poorly to us asking for help.”

“We’re not meant to be asking for help, I guess,” Todoroki answered solemnly. “We’re supposed to  _ be  _ the help, afterall. And they’re under the impression that all heroes are in it for their own business gain.” 

Izuku wanted to disagree, but he’d only met Coriolis for a little under fifteen minutes and -  _ yeah. _ It made sense why there was no faith in the hero industry here. He took a deep breath, increasing the pace of his step so he was better in tandem with Todoroki. “I guess it’s up to us to teach them what heroes are really like.”

Todoroki offered a small smile, matching his step. “That sounds more like it.”

Near the end of the village stood a wall of pine trees, towering well above all of the houses as the mountain side rose to a steep point. Each row of trees were higher than the next, creating a beautiful mirage of an impenetrable pine forest wall reaching into the sky. Where the line of trees began held a thin foot trail between the tree trunks, so small it would have been easy to miss if not for the rickety sign at its side. The sign held the kanji for the Crystal fishing lake, with directions to follow the path North. Izuku tried not to sigh at the steep incline of the path, grateful that he wasn’t expected to be running the whole way up. Without another word, both heroes stepped out of the village, on their way to find their missing person.

 

* * *

“Maybe we should have asked someone how long the trek actually is to  _ get  _ to the lake,” Izuku sighed, shivering slightly. Despite the windbreak created by the trees, the air current was strong enough to worm its way throughout the forest, the canopies above a very dangerous vision of swaying branches, looking prime to fall. Izuku could understand more so now why it was ill-advised to go up here during this time of year - the Oya-Shio current had the potential to kill someone. And with all the noise it produced through the woods, it’d be more than easy for someone’s cries for help to be muffled and muted to anyone who dared walk by. 

Izuku hoped that was all it was - Maketa hunkered down somewhere in the woods, waiting for them to stumble upon him. He was trying his best to find any kind of indication of a way to stumble off the path, or any lesser trails that could be easy to diverge onto and get lost, but as far as he could tell, the trail was rather obvious and linear.

“It’s quite the optical illusion,” Todoroki agreed. Ahead of them, the trail just kept rising up, and was so far into the woods that the peak of the path couldn’t even be seen. It gave the false impression that they were walking steeper and steeper into the sky, without any sign of the sky’s horizon to even confirm it. Somewhere up there the path had to smoothen out, to hold an entire body of water. The city and forest were so different in landscape, it was unsettling. Izuku felt more confident jumping across sixty floored skyscrapers, honestly.

Todoroki broke the silence with a huff. “So its, uh - not just me who finds it strange that they requested for two of ‘their best heroes’ who just so happen to have neither quirks nor Pokémon equipped for this kind of search and rescue, is it?” 

Izuku checked behind them to make sure that both Gara and Micchan were keeping up with them. “You still think we were brought here for something else?”

Todoroki shrugged. “Well, we both have made names for ourselves as heroes, but we’re both better known for our brute strength and overwhelming attack power-”

“We  _ are  _ popular in our combat battle tactics,” Izuku agreed, but he liked to think he was rather good at rescuing people too. He didn’t just punch and kick everything, anyways. “You think they want us to fight something, then?” He thought back to the mention of bandits from the villagers. Did the hero agency know about that rumour too?

“That, or they want to keep us out of the way,” Todoroki answered, sounding ominous. Izuku couldn’t tell if this was one of his newfound senses of humour or not.

“A diversion from the city seems far-fetched,” Izuku told him. “Besides, our hero agencies work plenty well without us there.”

“Of course,” Todoroki agreed. “I’m just going over ideas.”

Izuku hummed. “Maybe we’re overthinking this.”

“You? Overthinking?”

Okay, this was the third time now- “Was that a joke?” Izuku finally asked.

“Me? Joke?” Todoroki replied. Izuku squinted at him.

“You’ve changed, Todoroki-kun.”

“We’re on duty. It’s Shouto.”

Izuku shook his head. “You understand that’s the opposite of non-personal, right?”

Then Todoroki shushed him, swiftly ending their banter. Izuku huffed through his nose, but complied. He was almost disappointed - they  _ never  _ got to have fun, but whatever it was that had caught Todoroki’s attention was so much more important than getting to rejoice in rekindling an old friendship.

“Four o’clock,” Todoroki whispered, pointing behind them to the right. “Watch.”

Izuku glanced over, wincing when Micchan stumbled straight into the back of his leg. At first glance, the forest seemed to be only filled with the overwhelming sway of the Oya-Shio breeze, dappling lights of the forest shrubbery dancing as the branches twisted above. But the shifting sunlight was also shining onto something else - something much more solid and not so plant shaped.

“Not a Pokémon,” Izuku mumbled under his breath. The sunlight reflected off of a surface, but whatever was there was transparent. Like a tall invisible person.

“Not a child,” Todoroki hummed back.

No more words were exchanged between them. Izuku’s flesh came alight with sparks, Micchan hopping forward with his claws curled into fists at the ready. He noticed Gara take a step ahead of Shouto, but both of them remained in place and alert.

“We don’t want to hurt you,” Todoroki called out. “Show yourself already.”

A voice tsked at them. “You’ve got good senses.” The speaker held a light voice, despite the heavy dialect drawl of the village. The transparent shimmer sprouted into a visible head, revealing a woman. 

Izuku blinked, surprised. It was the woman he saw vanish behind the crowd. Maybe Todoroki had been right, to consider caution with them. Izuku powered down, resting a gloved palm against Micchan’s shroom head. His Pokémon slumped from the weight, stumbling out of his attack stance.

Unfazed, Todoroki continued. “Why follow us? Did you think staying clear of the path would cover your tracks?”

Pouting, the rest of the woman’s body morphed into view, revealing arms crossed in frustration.

“We’re really not here to do anything bad,” Izuku reassured her. “We just want to find the missing child.” Why would a villager need to spy on people searching for a boy?

The lady glanced down at the path warily, before stepping forward through the brambles. “I didn’t want the others knowin’ I was gonna talk to you.”

Izuku stiffened with surprise, noticing Todoroki take a step forward in interest. “Do you have information for us?”

She grimaced. “Kinda. But it might not be what you’re lookin’ for. I just thought-” she rolled her shoulders, clearly uncomfortable. “-the residents here are like family, but they’re stubborn. They think their problem is more important, but because no ones helping out, they’re unwilling to help with  _ other  _ problems, y’know?”

“Petty,” Todoroki answered. Izuku swatted at his arm.  _ As if Todoroki could judge! _

“Why the change of heart from you, then?”

She blinked. “It’s a little boy,” she said. “Why should our opinion of heroes get in the way of that? Of making sure he’s safe?” She kicked at the leaves by her feet idly. “If it were Kiba-kun - the boy who threw a rock at you earlier - if it were one of our own, the other’s would’ve helped you look. It’s not right, not really.”

Izuku relaxed slightly, offering her a smile. “That’s really selfless of you. If you think you can offer us any help, we’d really appreciate it.”

Her stare lingered on him for a moment, before flicking to Todoroki, and back again. She nodded. “Yeah, okay. Uhm. A couple people saw him pass through. The old man - Takiro-san, and uh, his nephew - Genki-kun. They fish at the Crystal lake together most days, but had just finished packin’ away from the lake for Oya-Shio. ‘Cause like - Suicune supposedly rests there during this time. The kid got directions to the lake to come up this path from them, but they were warning him not to fish or anything since it’s Oya-Shio. But the kid’s a kid, and ignored the warnings and went up anyways. Uh, he stopped by our Pokémon nurse too, just before. I thought he might’ve gone to catch more Pokémon - that’s what most travellers do up there. But he never came back down. There aren’t any other trails or villages connected to the lake, so. A lot of people think Suicune got mad or the Oya-Shio swept him away, or something. I don’t know if I believe ‘em though.”

Izuku held his hand to his chin, jotting down the information mentally as efficiently as he could. “Alright, that helps a lot more than you think, thank you -  _ uh-” _

“Manatsu.”

He smiled, more firmly. “Thanks for your help, Manatsu-san.” Hesitantly, she smiled back at him. Izuku was glad that it felt genuine.

“You have a Pokémon nurse here?” Todoroki asked, catching her attention. “There’s no Pokémon centre in the village.”

She nodded. “She does general healing and first aid at her home. She has some equipment but, not like -  _ Centre  _ kind of stuff, you know? Homemade brews and whatnot.”

Todoroki hummed. “Good to know. Thank you.” He flashed Izuku a quick look, and he could  _ feel  _ the suspicious cogs churning in Todoroki’s head. 

“I’m not done,” Manatsu blurted out. “I mean, I’m done talking about the boy. That’s all I know about him. But - I wanna talk about the bandits.”

Izuku did too, actually. “I heard them mentioned in the village,” he admitted, “but they weren’t in the case file.”

Manatsu shook her head. “No surprise there. Colalola won’t take care of it. He keeps saying it’s the police’s job, but then, why is he even  _ here?” _

Izuku cocked his head. “Coriolis, you mean?”

“That’s what I said.”

Todoroki nodded in agreement with her. 

“Why is it the police’s job?” Izuku asked. “Heroes and police are meant to work side by side - the roles of heroes is simply to legalise and permit the use of regulated quirk control, to aid police in subduing criminal activity.”

“Well that’s just it.” Manatsu sighed. “Colaman and Police Chief  _ hate  _ each other. They’re like - the  _ worst  _ of enemies. And they don’t work together. Chief’s the only one who tries to get stuff done, but it’s like you said.” She twirled her finger in the air. “Quirk regulations limit what he’s allowed to do.”

Izuku scratched at the back of his head. The entire village was run on biased favouritism, it seemed. Was everyone against each other?

“The Oya-Shio brought more than cold winds with it this year,” Manatsu continued. “The bandits came too. Crooks, criminals, villains, whatever they’re called. They’re no gooders and they rob people blind. Usually Takiro-san checks on the lake to send prayers throughout Oya-Shio, but he got mugged on his first night up. He didn’t even make it to the lake - he said he was struck with a blinding light and found himself trampled. By the time he could pick himself up, his clothes were torn ragged and every pocket knicked. Bags, equipment and offerin’s;  _ gone. _ Genki-kun went up to try and find his stuff the moment his uncle had stumbled home and the same thing happened to him. No one’s dared go up since.”

“This mountain path sounds rather dangerous, then,” Todoroki acknowledged, glancing around idly. In the daylight, it was hard to see the risk of anything other than a windswept branch. 

“I can see how this could put the village off from helping us,” Izuku admitted. “But, that being said - Manatsu-san, you’ve given us valuable information. Thank you  _ so much _ for following us.” He nodded, his smile determined. “Luckily for you, we’re awfully familiar with dealing with villains. We’ll do everything we can about subduing the bandit problem, as well as get that boy reunited with his parents.”

Manatsu nodded, stepping back. She looked as if she were about to leave, but hesitated.  

“Y’know… I can see it. I see why you guys are liked so much. We’re not… used to seeing heroes in a good light here, but… I hope you guys can change their minds. I  _ wanna  _ believe that you can help us. So, thanks.”

Todoroki nodded. “Keep yourself safe on your way back to the village.”

She stared at him for a moment, her brow furrowing, before her eyes widened. Then she blinked out of existence, with nothing but the faintest shimmer slipping down the path indicated her departure.

Izuku snorted. “You couldn’t just tell her we’d give her permission for her quirk to be used as self defense?”

Todoroki turned back up to the mountain. “Permit quirk usage? Why would I ever do that? That’s illegal.”

Izuku rolled his eyes, then began to follow him back up the trail. He pinkened at the thought of her hopeful praise for them.

“Hey, did you hear what she said though?”

“I did. Bandits creating light illusions-”

“No, not that part-”

“-probably why the Suicune hypothesis is floating around. If people don’t believe the lights are bandits, they might assume it’s their wandering Suicune who is angry at them. At least, from the thought of some stranger trespassing during Oya-Shio.”

Izuku blinked. “Oh! You have a point, actually.”

The side eye Todoroki gave him in response clearly read  _ ‘when do I not? _ ’ and Izuku couldn’t help but swat at his arm again. “Oh don’t give me that look. Let’s keep going. Hopefully we can bump into a bandit or two.”


End file.
